Tag Archives: Sandra Bullock

12 Realistic Oscar Predictions for This Year

1 Mar

It’s Oscar season, and every person who’s ever seen a movie thinks they know what’s up when it comes to predicting the winners. Alas, sometimes what seems like the obvious choice doesn’t end up with the coveted golden statue that every immodest asshole has to complain is “so heavy”.

But don’t fret if your Oscar Prediction Ballot is full of disappointment. There are some things that we can all accurately predict about the Oscars. I’ve decided to share with you a few things you can realistically bet on during this year’s Academy Awards Show to diffuse some anxiety.

1. Ellen will dance. Probably a lot.  Because that’s what she does. She makes jokes and dances and invites talented children from YouTube to appear on her show.

2. Jennifer Lawrence will do something adorable and everyone on every social media platform will talk about how much they love her and maybe even talk to each other in real life about it because she is that adorable.

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Fuck This Tree

17 Dec

Fuck this tree.

This fucking tree. I promise I don’t normally start stories in medias res, but I can’t help it. This tree is a giant, nine-foot, demonic, home-wrecking, total piece of fucking shit.

Commandant L.S., face full of Christmas rage.

Commandant L.S., face full of Christmas rage.

I say this as I stand next to my family’s royal failure of a tenenbaum, something which even Linus from Charlie Brown would be ashamed to be associated with. This tree has taken so much time from me, enacted so much emotional stress on my family, that I can’t help it if I no longer see it as an inanimate fucking object. It’s got a life of its own. It’s a damn demon tree. I’ve stood next to it, supporting it, for the last 90 minutes, trying to keep it from falling over again. I only momentarily take my hands off of it to help unwind the garland and remove the ornaments, and I swear it knows that I’m starting to trust that it won’t fall over, so it decides to make a move to take out the window behind me.

Like most disasters one lives through, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when the tree first fell, a little over two hours ago. Except that, like most disasters one lives through, the trauma of the event likely prevented my memory from working correctly. I think I was playing video games in my room at home, waiting for my buddy to call me back about going out for a beer. But for all I really know, I was furiously masturbating to a Celine Dion song in the furnace closet down the hall when my mom shouted up to me. Continue reading